Anita’s Posts Archives

For those of us who don’t count steps, points or calories, what are we to do?

For starters, we can stop saying that golf is a good walk spoiled. That honor now has to go to a Fitbit walk. Nothing ruins a walk like counting the steps and learning how few calories were burned. Knowing that a mile is around 2,000 steps is TMI that I can no longer unsee. Kind of like having a song from Z-104 stuck on repeat in my head.

We can also update Coco Chanel’s saying, “Before leaving the house, look in the mirror and remove one accessory” to “Before leaving the house, remove all wearable tech.” The Fitbit and Apple Watch are profoundly ugly and ruin any outfit. No wonder my first thought when I received a debit card with that shiny new chip was to wonder if I could turn that chip into a fashion accessory. Surely we should be allowed to use it as a bracelet charm or necklace pendant and toss the plastic. Considering that only a tiny fraction of my debit card purchases are for items for me, the only option I can see for having fun when using the debit card is if I wear it as an accessory.

And speaking of chip debit cards, even though it’s been several months since I received it, I still have no idea if it is actually more secure or not, because Walgreens, Walmart and Trader Joe’s are the only stores I go to that have the chip option of processing the card. So most of my transactions are of the insecure variety.

The other day I read that there is something called e-skin, which can give your hand or arm the power of a smartwatch. The article said, “If you functionalize your own skin, you don’t need to carry anything, and it’s easy to receive information anywhere, anytime.”

Oh my. Imagine the possibilities. Maybe I wouldn’t even need a library card anymore. And it would give me yet another reason to avoid going to the pool, so I don’t get my e-skin wet or sunburned. Otherwise my transaction at the cash register might decline for excessive ultraviolet rays and chlorine. Although at least that’s less embarrassing than “insufficient funds.”

Until then, the best I can probably hope for someday is a “Throw a Fit” Bit that counts all the irritating things that cross my path. Now that would be useful.

On Memorial Day morning, Monona residents are faced with a dilemma: sleep in or go to the parade. Based on almost 20 years of experience of always choosing the parade option, here is a primer to help you enjoy the parade.

Transportation

Drive to the parade, don’t walk. How do you justify this waste of fuel when you live within walking distance? By parking at IHM school and church and going to their white elephant sale before the parade. You’ll need a car for all your purchases.

Location

Stand at the same location every year. We had to deviate from this the year Monona Drive was under construction, and the experience was too disorienting. Make sure it is within striking distance of liquid refreshment and bathrooms (i.e. McDonald’s).

Don’t bring chairs. It is too oxymoronic to sit in comfort and gaze at the parade as if you were watching TV, while veterans who sacrificed for us walk by. It’s either that or I’m too lazy to bring chairs, I’ll let you guess which one is the real reason. Ahem.

Activities during the Parade

Candy-gathering. You’ll usually forget to bring bags for the kids to use to store their candy, which ensures there will be a mountain of candy thrown their way. Of course you will discreetly pocket some of it for yourself (feel free to send some Tootsie Rolls my way if you get any extras).

Anxiously look for the World War II veteran. If you don’t see him walking with the other veterans, don’t panic. Sometimes he’s in a car.

Express disappointment that Tammy Baldwin isn’t in the parade anymore, like she was in the good old days when she was in the House of Representatives.

Talk to the same neighbors every year. It’s too easy to live near someone and go months with barely any chatting outside of Facebook. The Memorial Day annual chat is a wonderful way to catch up in person.

Realize you forgot to put on sunblock.

Post-Parade

The parade becomes boring after about the first 45 minutes once the veterans, vintage cars, politicians, marching bands and school teams have marched through.

Because we stand, no one begs to stay until the very end. We go back to IHM, this time for the festival. If the children spot friends at the festival, be prepared for yet more standing and chatting. If not, you’ll be home by noon.

You could now head over to Brat Fest or, like me, start resting up (and saving money for) for the July 4 festival. After you figure out what to do with your white elephant purchases.

A day or two after Prince died, and the color purple was suddenly the “in” color, the purple creeping Charlie in our yard fully bloomed. What a fitting tribute. It’s also proof you shouldn’t mess with nature. So when a lawn care salesperson came to the door a few days later I said, “No thanks, I like the weeds!” with more confidence than ever before. I now have all the justification I need to not feel bad about refusing to spray weedkiller on the yard now that it’s an ongoing tribute to the Mozart of our generation.

I only wanted to one time to see you laughing

I only wanted to see you

Laughing in the purple weeds

I’m laughing alright. The creeping Charlie and wild violets in the yard don’t grow as quickly or as tall as grass. Less mowing required. And when I do mow, the smell of the violets and the purple lilacs is almost intoxicating. During times of drought, there aren’t so many brown patches in the yard, because the weeds have deeper roots than grass and can remain purple and green.

I only wanted to be some kind of friend

Baby, I could never steal you from another

It’s such a shame our friendship had to end

Speaking of friendship, that reminds me of the purple irises by our mailbox and in the back yard. We acquired the ancestors of these bulbs from the family of a high school friend way back when I was in high school. The friendship ended, but the purple lives on.

Honey, I know, I know

I know times are changing

It’s time we all reach out

For something new, that means you, too

I’ll take that into consideration. Maybe I’ll get some purple petunias from the Monona Farmers’ Market this weekend instead of the usual pink.

May Sarton once wrote: “The garden is where my madness lies, and is a more useful madness than drunkenness or a tantrum.”

I’ll have to take her word for it. I’ve tried, but it’s clear my useful madness lies in areas other than gardening. But, hey, at least I have a purple thumb.

It’s important to revisit from time to time the proper sequence of who to blame when something goes wrong. Last week’s Charter outage provided a perfect opportunity:

Denial – At 9:15 p.m., I kept getting a DNS error on my computer. I rebooted the computer. Still no connection. Whatever it is, I know it can’t be my fault.

Pain – After 15 minutes of denial, other family members announce they don’t have an Internet connection. Let the blaming begin.

I notice the router was askew, like it had been knocked over. Aha. That must be the children’s fault. One of the cords looks slightly frayed. Did the pet bunny chew it? That would again be the children’s fault. I reboot the router, which appeared to be working just fine, but still no Internet connection. I try to think of ways to blame my husband, Gov. Walker, and Obama. Then I finally call Charter.

Anger and bargaining – I get a busy signal when calling Charter. Internet problems are the only thing in life that make me desperate enough to want to place a phone call. I call again and again and still a busy signal. On the verge of completely losing my cool, I log into my Charter account and notice the bill was due a few days ago. Oops. I quick pay it in hopes that will placate the Charter gods. Still no Internet connection. This is obviously Charter’s fault.

Depression – I was in the midst of a writing project for a client and am depressed that I now can’t finish it. I had set aside the evening to do so. What if the problem never gets fixed, and I’m reduced to being one of those people who sits at the picnic table near the library in the late evening and mooches off the free WiFi? I’ll always be behind on my projects. What will I do?

The upward turn – I do a Google search for “Charter outage.”

Reconstruction and working through – I find a Tweet that shows a Charter outage map, and there is a nationwide outage. People on Twitter are complaining. I feel comforted.

Acceptance and hope – I find a Facebook post from Charter saying they are working on fixing the outage. Why didn’t I think to check Facebook right after getting a busy signal and spare myself 90 minutes of anxiety and stress? That’s not my fault, of course.

Clerk: Just reach out to me if you need anything. I’m happy to leverage some industry standard best practices from our stylists to find pieces that will take your wardrobe to the next level and get you to …

Me: (plugging ears) Don’t say it …

Clerk: … think outside the box. I understand this kind of paradigm shift may not be one of your core competencies. We want to get your buy-in. Let’s start with some of the low-hanging fruit in the sales rack over here. We really moved the needle … excuse the pun, haha … when making this new linen fabric. It drapes beautifully and will break down your silo, which seems to trend toward preppy. It’s a stretch goal for you, but the colorful print is impactful and will empower you.

Me: Empower? Is this the Lean In store? I don’t do prints. And I only take fashion advice from the likes of Tim Gunn and Kim France. By the way, I see your jeans have less than 90 percent cotton, which is unacceptable.

Clrk: I will socialize that with my manager. In the meantime I want to solutionize and give you an actionable takeaway more within your comfort zone. Let’s circle back to the shoe section. This pair of Van’s mesh slip-on espadrilles is on sale, and there’s one pair left in your size.

Me: …

Clerk: Is there a problem?

Me: How did you know I like those? They are on my Zappos wish list. Did you somehow hack into my phone while I’ve been here?

Clerk: Of course not. We use big data to take a deeper dive and gather learnings that help us create a customer avatar for someone with your particular customer requirements.

Me: Avatar? Did I stumble into a video game? If so, I hope it is called Thanks for Not Reaching Out, and avatars lose a life every time they say annoying business jargon. Look, it’s been real, but I gotta go.

Clerk: What I’m hearing is that your wardrobe has a lot of moving parts but you have limited bandwidth right now. At the end of the day, it’s all about creating the best customer experience we can. Let’s tee it up over here where we can map out some next steps.

Me: This isn’t the golf course!

Clerk: Golf? There are some Under Armour women’s golf shirts over here …

“She used to think she needed to know things to be the mother. How to fix things, make everything better. And she couldn’t, she just didn’t know how. She felt sometimes not like a mother but like an older sister with an impatient streak. But one weekend, when her oldest daughter was afraid she was losing her baby, she spoke to her son-in-law on the telephone. Shyly she asked him, “Do you think I should come?’

‘My wife needs her mother,’ said her son-in-law, and in that second she understood all at once and forever everything she needed to know. And she got on the bus directly and went out to their house and she sat by her daughter’s bed and held her hand. She stayed in the room until her daughter fell asleep and she was there when her daughter woke. She is grateful forever to him for saying the right thing at the right moment because her life changed right there on that dime.”

The above painting is of me when I was in labor during the home birth of my youngest daughter. My oldest daughter took the photo and my friend Chili Dogma was so taken with it that she created this painting, for which I am ever grateful.

Because I don’t drink coffee, I’ve happily never been part of the tired, huddled masses yearning to drink coffee at Starbucks in the mornings.

But recently I had occasion to go to a Starbucks for the first time in five years or so, and what should appear before my very eyes? A green tea latte with coconut milk.

Before this the fanciest drink I would ever get was Cherry Coke Zero from those fountain drink machines at Qdoba and Wendys that have 100-plus flavors. So it felt a bit pretentious to order a latte. Then there was the awkwardness of trying to pronounce “grande.” I have been using Duolingo every day this year to brush up on my French and desperately wanted to pronounce it the French way. Then that would make me look even more pretentious. I worried I would butcher “venti” too. So I just said “large” and got away with it.

The experience was pleasant enough that I thought maybe I should start going to Starbucks regularly. At first I resisted, because I couldn’t get past the fact that this felt too hipster and would be as bad as shopping regularly at Whole Foods. I looked carefully in the Starbucks parking lot and didn’t see a parking spot with a “preferred parking for hybrid vehicles only” sign so that made me feel better. Suddenly I found myself coming up with justifications to go to Starbucks

“It’s Wednesday! I deserve a green tea latte! But it’s $5. I know, I’ll make a meal out of it. It has plenty of calories, 12 grams of protein, lots of calcium, and a few vitamins. So it’s not much more expensive than a pricey protein bar and much tastier.”

“I’m hot after mowing the yard. I deserve an iced green tea latte!”

“Daughter has a cold. A hot chai tea latte will help her with her congestion. While I’m there, I might as well get myself a green tea latte!”

“It’s the first day of the Monona Farmer’s Market. It’s just down the road from Starbucks, how convenient! We’ll get tea afterwards to wash down the Chippy’s popcorn!”

But, really, going to Starbucks regularly isn’t that sustainable from a budget perspective. I did some Googling to find a local source for matcha powder so I could make my own lattes and discovered a tea shop on the east side that sells it. And they also sell lattes at a more affordable price than Starbucks. Well then. Time to set a course for Jade Mountain Café!

Its arrival every spring is as dependable as the sighting of spring birds and blooming daffodils: The utterance of “I refuse to turn on the air conditioning this soon.” I overheard someone say this when I was out and about during the recent April weekend of 80-plus degree temps and considered that the official first day of spring.

I wonder if our ancestors 100-plus years ago were similarly stoic during spring heat waves. “Son, I know it’s hot as blazes, but you can’t swim in the mud hole today. It’s too soon. Why, just two nights ago, we made a fire because it was so cold!”

Speaking of stoicism, stoic philosophy is all the rage right now among Silicon Valley types. But, really, there’s no need for these folks to read the ancient writings of Marcus Aurelius and Seneca the Younger when they could just visit Wisconsin during a spring heat wave or in the middle of the winter.

I have no qualms about using air conditioning in April, so on Saturday, I embarked on my own form of spring stoicism: coaxing a daughter to go to the Aldo Leopold meadow with me. When children reach a certain age, it takes persuasion to get them to agree to such an outing. I sheepishly admit that getting iced beverages from Starbucks beforehand was involved, even though it was rather oxymoronic to walk around a meadow carrying a Starbucks cup. I happily discovered, however, that when the wind blows through the top of an empty plastic Starbucks cup it sounds just like a loon.

“We’ll only stay for 15 minutes,” I announced as we stepped into the meadow. Almost immediately, it was as if we were in a playful nature scene from a Sunday Calvin & Hobbes cartoon. She became transfixed by a huge tree in a marshy area and figured out a way to walk on sticks to get to it, undeterred by how wet her Converse shoes and jeans were getting. Then she had the opportunity to experience exposure therapy when maneuvering past bees that normally frighten her. I binge-watched the baby geese as she explored all the wooden docks. 107 minutes later, we left, with plans made to visit the meadow regularly to monitor the changes in flora and fauna as the season progresses.

It’s entirely possible I turned on the air conditioning during the drive home, but I will neither confirm nor deny.

This Humor Me column originally appeared in the Herald-Independent on April 28, 2016.

Black day, stormy night
No love, no hope in sight
Don’t cry, he is coming
Don’t die without knowing the cross
Ghettos to the left of us
Flowers to the right
There’ll be bread for all of us
If we can just bear the cross

Sweet song of salvation
A pregnant mother sings
She lives in starvation
Her children need all that she brings

We all have our problems
Some big, some are small
Soon all of our problems
Will be taken by the cross

Black day, stormy night
No love, no hope in sight
Don’t cry for he is coming
Don’t die without knowing the cross

Ghettos to the left of us
Flowers to the right
There’ll be bread for all, y’all
If we can just, just bear the cross, yeah